


Intentions

by Warp5Complex_Archivist



Category: Star Trek: Enterprise
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-03-05
Updated: 2006-03-05
Packaged: 2018-08-16 00:40:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,115
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8080072
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Warp5Complex_Archivist/pseuds/Warp5Complex_Archivist
Summary: Sometimes, at the end of a bad day, a guy just needs to snuggle. (06/24/2003)





	

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Kylie Lee, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Warp 5 Complex](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Warp_5_Complex), the software of which ceased to be maintained and created a security hazard. To make future maintenance and archive growth easier, I began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in August 2016. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but I may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Warp 5 Complex collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/Warp5Complex).

  
Author's notes: Cuddle Challenge Fic! Haven't we all had days like this? Written in under 30 minutes and unbeataed. You have been warned.  


* * *

Trip Tucker barked his knuckles hard on the panel, drawing an audible bark from his lips. Looking at the newly raw spots, he considered himself lucky that he hadn't shut them into the panel itself. He glared a last time at the wall casing and gave one corner of it a hard slam with the heel of his hand, popping it back into place. A scowl twisted his face as he piled various tools back into their case. Only ingrained habit kept him from slamming and throwing them around. He certainly felt like hurling objects as hard and far as he could. Finishing with the tools, Trip leaned his forehead against the offending panel, trying to will his headache away.

It had been one of those days, when everything decided to go wrong all at once. Nothing major, nothing serious, nothing dangerous, just a thousand niggling things that it seemed no one but him was qualified to handle. It was enough to make Trip want to pull each hair on his head out, weave it into an effigy of the universe, and throw it out the nearest airlock. He snorted at the thought of himself bald. It wasn't a very pretty picture. _Besides,_ he thought, _Malcolm would kill you if you did._ One of his lover's favorite pastimes was absently running a hand through Trip's hair, then often teasing him about the resulting spiky hairdo.

Just thinking about Malcolm soothed his frayed nerve endings a bit. They may have only been together a few months, but their relationship, built on friendship and trust, had become so much a part of Trip that he fully intended to ask Malcolm to marry him when they got back to Earth. Whenever that happened.

Trip sighed heavily and pushed off from the wall. The chronometer told him it was late, much later than he wanted it to be. Malcolm would no doubt be asleep in his own quarters, and Trip wasn't about to wake him up just to snuggle, no matter how attractive the prospect was. He sighed again, drawing a few quizzical looks from members of the engineering night shift. Trip quickly stowed the tool kit away and left Engineering. The thought of his bed, even Malcolm-less, sounded good right now.

* * *

He had almost gone left instead of right. There was a junction on B- Deck where if Trip went right, he went to his quarters. If he had gone left, he would've headed toward Malcolm's quarters. He had hesitated, muttering to himself. Part of him wanted to say to hell with the hour, the other half clung stubbornly to good manners. In the end, the latter half won.

Trip slipped inside, already pulling at the zipper of his jumpsuit and staring at his feet, pondering the quickest way to get his boots off. His earlier irritation had faded to dull apathy, and he just wanted to crawl into bed and forget this day ever happened. Balancing on one foot, he yanked on the boot containing his other foot when the voice sounded.

"I was starting to wonder if you were ever going to come home."

Startled, Trip let out a short yelp and wavered on the one leg. The boot came off, and Trip quickly got the foot back onto the floor before he fell over. He looked up to see a pair of familiar eyes reflecting dim starlight. "Malcolm?"

"You were expecting someone else?" The sleep-thick voice held a note of teasing.

Trip shook his head slowly as he pulled off the other boot. "No, I just wasn't expectin' anyone at all. Figured you'd be asleep by now."

"Well," Trip's eyes had adjusted enough to see Malcolm, still clad in his uniform, sit up on the bed and rub his hands over his face. "I had intended on waiting up for you, but I was tired, and the bed looked so nice...even empty...I hope you don't mind..."

Trip laughed as Malcolm echoed his thoughts from earlier. "Oh darlin', you have no idea how glad I am you're here...it wasn't a good day."

Malcolm nodded. "I saw. I came by Engineering after my shift to see if you wanted to have dinner to find you up to your waist in injectors and casings and panels. You looked like you were about to chew through the warp core itself."

Letting out a moan as he stripped off his jumpsuit, Trip replied, "I think I was about to. Just one thing after another...it was enough to make me want to rip my hair out. Literally." The bald image ran across his mind again and he let out a tired giggle.

"I don't like that idea. I happen to like your hair." Malcolm's matter of fact tone made Trip laugh harder.

"That's just what I was thinkin'. You do like to play with it, don't you?" He finally pulled the last of his clothes off and fell face first onto the bed clad only in his blues, narrowly missing the other man. "I hate days like this," Trip mumbled into the blanket that smelled like Malcolm. A hand ran soothingly down his back. "I know. But they keep happening anyway, don't they?"

Trip just sighed and turned his head to gaze up. "Could you stay tonight?" The fatigue, combined with the pleading note, made the request sound more pathetic than Trip had meant it to be.

Malcolm just smiled and ran his fingers quickly through the blond hair, Trip's eyes fluttering shut at the touch. "Of course, love. Just give me a minute." The bed swayed as Malcolm stood up, and Trip almost whimpered in protest. But he stayed still, listening to the faint whisper of clothing, followed by, "Move over, then."

These beds were not really made for two, but they made it work somehow. Groaning, Trip forced himself to roll over and twist his legs around as Malcolm stretched back out on the bed. It was almost too much of an effort, but he got himself underneath the covers. Then he felt very welcome arms slide around his waist. Managing one more major movement, Trip flipped back over with a quiet "Thanks."

Malcolm murmured, "Anytime." A soft kiss, then Malcolm pulled Trip as close as he could.

Burrowing his head into his favorite spot in the hollow between Malcolm's neck and shoulder, Trip listened to the steady breathing for several moments before saying softly, "I want to marry you."

Without hesitation, Malcolm answered, "I'd like that. I'd like that very much."


End file.
